Grid Lock Tango
by Elhini Prime
Summary: Alan is used to nuts. You don't work with Kevin Flynn without developing a tolerance for it. But now Sam is running Encom, programs are becoming more and more like the Users who created them, and the lines between real and code are getting thinner. But one thing is clear, Kevin's dream might become a reality. Together, they might just change the world. Adopted from Cyberbutterfly.
1. Bad Kitty

_**Hi everyone. So this is the first story adoption I've **_**ever_ done. I own _absolutely_ nothing in this story. It belongs solely to the wonderful Cyberbutterfly and not to this Prime. Cyberbutterfly didn't have time to write any more of this story, and I had found it and fell in love with it. I asked if I could adopt it (with the help of some of my friends *possibly a few of the old readers from the original story?*) and she said _yes_! I was so e_xcited_!_ _Now, just to let you know, it won't be just me writing this, I'll be having help from the original author, Cyberbutter__fly, as well as various other authors on this site (maybe one of you?) Anyway, I present (with all the original author's notes and with some grammatical editing but no more than that!) the adopted Grid Lock Tango. _**

Chapter 1

Bad Kitty

Don't know where this came from, but it just popped into my mind and wouldn't leave.

But I've had a few of these ideas, and they're fast to write, so I just created this place as a 'dumping ground' for them…Will be my zany ideas-along with any prompts people want to throw out there.

**PURE CRACK... These are for fun, so don't go into them expecting anything deep and meaningful.**

Warnings will be noted for each chapter...But overall don't expect anything severe.

* * *

**Summary: Alan doesn't care what Sam does with his spare time…He just wants to know what that thing in the box in the middle of his office is.**

**Warnings: Very mild language…Shameless manipulation of the Tron universe and characters.**

* * *

"Does someone want to explain why there's a plastic box; in my office; with something resembling a deranged cat in it?"

Alan Bradley closed the door then walked over until he stood in the middle of said office, pointing a finger at said plastic box that was currently hurling itself around the room and making noises no plastic container ever should.

"More over…Why does the not-quite-a-cat in the box have red eyes and what looks like racing stripes down its side?"

He continued to stare as Sam-who people might notice if he killed-Jr.-who he probably could get away with killing-and Roy Kleinburg did nothing but continue to shuffle their feet and avoid his eyes.

He spread his arms wide, waving at them, and then put them on his hips.

"I'm waiting…"

More shuffling oh feet until Sam cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head; he gave Alan an apologetic grin.

"On the plus side-your de-coding sequence worked…We managed to separate Rinzler's code from Tron's,"

Alan took a quick look at the box, which thumped menacingly in the corner, and then turned back to Sam; he folded his arms across his chest.

"Good…I'm very happy for Tron…Still not seeing what the correlation between that and the 'cat' is, Sam."

Apparently the three of them were turning feet shuffling to an art form-because they all went back to doing exactly that. Finally Alan sighed and pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose as he took the initiative.

"Why don't you just _tell_ me why Rinzler's base code and the cat have some magic connection?"

Edward Dillinger walked over to the mini fridge Alan kept in his office and pulled out a Pepsi from it. He held it up to Alan.

"You mind if I-?"

Alan waved him away, recognizing a stall trick when he saw one.

"Knock yourself out."

He cracked the can open and took a drink, then pointed at the ever shifting, growling box.

"We figured we'd use the two disks to separate Tron and Rinzler's programming…Basically put Tron's code into one, and Rinzler's into the other."

Alan hummed, and raised one eyebrow.

"Sounds like a solid idea."

Suddenly Sam jumped in.

"Yeah…But when we finally got the coding organized we saw that there was no way Rinzler had enough base code to form a full program…I mean-the formatting was there for _something _sentient…Just not enough for anything that big."

Alan looked at all three of them; giving them the best intimidating glare he could muster…It clearly was doing its job.

"So you decided on a _CAT_?"

He leveled a glare at Roy, who raised his hands in surrender.

"Don't look at me…My job was to stay outside and monitor the laser…About the only part I played was getting that beast into a container before it ripped them both to shreds,"

He snapped his attention back to Sam and Jr., who were doing great impressions of being eight year olds preparing to be spanked.

"Again, why a cat?"

They both began to mumble, voice low enough not to be heard. Alan squared his shoulder and added a little more emphasis to the intimidation factor and switched to his 'drill Sergeant' voice.

"Enunciate,"

Sam replied meekly.

"Well…He already had the whole 'purring' thing going on…It just seemed like a good idea at the time."

Jr. snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah…Until we re-rezzed him with the disk…As it turns out the only things worse than Rinzler as a program-is Rinzler as a small, fast, agile, well-armed, and pissed-off mammal."

Alan looked at the box one more time, and then turned back to the kids. Sam pulled down his shirt collar to reveal several long scratches on his chest; Jr. raised his arms to show similar marks.

"So…Why bring it here?"

Sam gave Alan his best 'you've got to be joking' looks.

"On top of everything else, he lost a lot of intelligence when separated from Tron…He probably couldn't take care of himself in the grid."

Alan kept glaring, knowing that ultimately Sam would get around to answering his question…After a moment Sam raised his hands up and sighed.

"Well what else were we supposed to do? Animal Care 101 isn't exactly required learning for programs-so it's not like we could leave him with anyone…And besides-he attacked everyone he came in contact with there."

Jr. chuckled and smiled at Sam.

"Well…Except for Tron…Rinz just kinda shrunk down in a corner and mewled when he came back online."

Sam returned the chuckled and shook his head.

"Yeah…but that might have had something to do with the activated disk, and his offer to permanently 'pacify' Rinzler, more than mutual friendship."

Alan cleared his throat and the kids' laughter stopped, they stood at attention.

"Why is it in _my_ office?"

Sam rubbed the back of his neck again and gave Alan a pleading look…It was the same one he'd been giving him since he was twelve and knew Alan wouldn't like what he was about to ask.

"Well…There's no way in hell Quorra's going to want him around-and besides I'd hate to see what he'd do to Marv."

Jr. spoke up, different expression-same plead.

"I'm allergic…Apparently even to digital versions."

"Alan looked up at Roy and raised an eyebrow. Roy just looked at him incredulously.

"Seriously? Come on, Alan…You know me…I've killed cactuses through neglect…Besides, I'd worry constantly about El' Diablo showing up knocked one night, furious because I stole his 'pet'."

Alan rolled his eyes and walked over to the container, which was growling low as he approached; he slowly pulled the lid off it.

"Oh come on, he can't be _that_ bad."

All three shouted in unison.

"DON'T!"

Less than a second later, Alan concluded he now fully understood the expression 'bat out of hell'…Before anyone could say anything more, the cat lunged out of the box with an ungodly scream ad shot-hissing and spitting-straight for Sam and J; within the second the cat had somehow managed to pin the two grown men in the corner, as Roy tried fending it off with a chair.

Watching the two kids holler while his friend acted like a lion tamer, Alan didn't think he could be blamed for laughing. He got up and started to walk over.

"Clearly, none of you have ever owned a cat."

Before Rinzler could sense his approach, Alan crossed the distance and reached down, snagging the cat by the scruff of the neck with one hand and grabbing the back paws with the other.

Rinzler twisted and turned but couldn't free himself. Finally the animal began to still and Alan let go of the back paws as he reached up and gave the cat's nose a quick, hard flick with his finger.

The cat's eyes widened as it went completely limp in his hands…Alan smiled as a shocked Rinzler simply stared back at him.

"Bad kitty."

A growl started up low in the cat's throat.

Alan clicked his tongue as he went back to grabbing the cat's rear paws.

"Let me introduce myself…I'm Alan, otherwise known as 'Alan-1', Tron's user…And if you think what_ he_ threatened to do to you was bad, it's because you don't yet know what I'm capable of."

The growling stopped as the cat whimpered and tried to shrink into itself.

Sam, Jr., and Roy stood in place, jaws practically hitting the floor as Alan tucked the cat under one arm and went over to the fridge; he pulled out the remains of a tuna sandwich and a bottle of water out. After a few seconds of pulling the sandwich apart on a dish, he put both it and Rinzler down on his desk.

The cat sniffed the tuna and took a tentative lick before diving in to devour the meal. Locating another dish he pouted some of the water into it and set it next to the fish. Alan turned his attention back to the others.

Sam pointed to the cat, clearly baffled.

"How the _HELL_ did you do that?"

Roy clearly just as stunned, studied Alan.

"Programmer, rebel, and cat whisperer,"

Alan rolled his eyes again, and reached down to scratch Rinzler behind the ears, who pressed into the scratch as he flexed his front paws.

"No…but I had a couple of cats as a kid, so I've learned what works and what doesn't."

Sam looked hopeful.

"So…You'll take him?"

Alan looked down at the cat as it finished and licked its lips. He turned back to Sam and pointed a finger at him.

"He stays in the office until I decide-and _you're_ buying the supplies and food until then."

Sam practically beamed and stepped forward; Alan figured it was to hug him, but a vicious hiss and an arched back from Rinzler made Sam think twice. Alan chuckled, but gave the cat another little warning flick.

"Now…About those supplies."

He'd never seen three people more intent on leaving his office and he was soon alone with the animal. Turning back to Rinzler he watched as the cat circled his desk a few times and then curled up to sleep. He went around and sat down, absently running a hand through the cat's fur.

"Aw…You're not so bad, are you?"

Rinzler's only answer was a deep rumbling purr.

* * *

Alan never did give Sam a definite 'yes or no' answer when it came to the car. But over the course of a month Rinzler just sort of became a part of Alan's work life; greeting him when he came in, following him around as he went about his tasks, and curling up on his lap as he sat at his desk…He'd even somewhat accepted Jr. as tolerable, but Sam seemed to have earned a permanent black mark on the cat's record.

Any questions about the cat's look were explained away with the words 'Research Lab Animal'-no one had ever felt the need to question further, partially because Rinzler had also developed a notorious reputation among the Encom staff-having left his 'mark' on more than a few of them…Many who probably deserved it, if anyone had stopped to ask Alan's opinion on the matter; either way it officially earned the cat the titled of 'Encom Enforcer'.

As for hiring new employees, Alan was now in charge of that responsibility-and he made sure they took place in his office. Rumors circulated that only those the cat approved of got the positions they'd applied for; and those who Rinzler outright attacked-if they didn't just bolt in terror-found their interviews shorten significantly.

* * *

The decision to adopt the animal was finally made one evening when everyone else had gone home for the day. Alan had removed his glasses to clean and then misplaced them somewhere. After 10 minutes of searching, he still had no luck.

Course, it didn't help that he needed the glasses to see in the first place.

Looking around, Alan smiled at the blur he assumed was Rinzler and waved his arms around the room.

"Any suggestions?"

Quickly, Rinzler ran over and wiggled under his desk, only to emerge moments later with the handle of Alan's glasses in his teeth. He jumped up onto Alan's lap as he sat in the chair. Smiling at the purring animal, he scratched under his chin, which resulted in a dramatic increase in rumbling purr volume; Alan smiled.

"Good Kitty."

* * *

**OKAY…so don't tell me you people didn't watch that movie and think EXACTLY the same thing as me!**

**LOL…Okay- so thoughts, comments, reviews, prompts, hell-flames…don't care-send them all…I love to hear back from people. (Shameless that way, really)**

**NOTE: Scary enough…The Rinzler-kitty is based off the cat I owned for 18 years (named Whiskers-hey! I was 7 years old when I got her-give me a break :D). Beautiful looking animal, and if she liked you she was a doll…Problem was if she didn't) that was a LOT of people)…If she didn't you ran the risk of having an arm ripped off simply for walking into our house.**


	2. Just Another Typical Month At Encom

So... More crack... Because you all seemed to want it

Summary: Some people would run screaming from the building... For Alan and Sam, it's just another typical month at the nut house otherwise known as Encom.

* * *

Week 1- Monday:

"It was Ed's fault."

"Was not!"

"Was so!"

"Like _Hell_!"

"Hell, yes!"

Alan cleared his throat loudly, and both Jr. and Sam quieted down instantly to look at him. He raised the memo once more and held it up to their faces.

"Once again, I will repeat… _Why_ is there a memo stating that all Encom employees are now required to attend a seminar of proper use and safety of office materials?"

The two boys in front of him shuffled around, neither speaking, simply looking everywhere but at him… Alan crossed his arms and started counting back from ten. When there was still no response, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

"Okay… Given that you two seem to have the maturity levels of 4 years olds right now- you've got 60 seconds to tell me about the memo or I'm placing you in 'time out' and locking you both in the supply closet."

Not surprisingly, Jr. broke first.

"We finished that side project late last night… You know, the one where we take disused programs and recode them for Encom's systems up—"

Alan interrupted.

"You're stalling, Jr… Get to the point."

Sam chose to come to his rescue.

"Yeah, well, in retrospect, talking a bunch of sleep deprived employees into celebrating with a drinking game consisting of Redbull and vodka shooters at 3:30 in the morning may not have been the brightest idea I've ever had."

Alan sighed as he tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling

"You know, I've met three year olds with more common sense then the two of you _combined._"

Looking back down he saw Sam flash him a cocky grin.

"Yeah, but I bet they couldn't hold a candle to our charismatic personalities."

"We can only hope… So, who's explaining how I ended up with a brand new office chair?"

Sam and Jr. looked at each other for a second until Jr. shoved his hands in his pockets and exhaled slowly as he stared at the floor.

"Sometime after the 6th shot we thought it'd be fun to have an office chair relay race."

Alan raised an eyebrow, and Sam piped up with a grin.

"Down the staircase!"

Alan just stared and Jr. looked up, blushing with embarrassment.

"Nothing but one minor injury for the human participants… But your chair didn't make it."

Alan stared for another moment, and then reached out and quickly cuffed both of them. As both boys responded with a resounding 'OW' he turned on his heels and began to walk away, chuckling quietly. Suddenly Sam's voice ran out.

"That's it? No big spiel on the waste of an ill spent youth?"

Alan grinned as he turned to face them with a shrug.

"On the way down, did either of you happen to notice the dents in the metal door on the third landing?"

They both nodded, and Alan laughed as he looked at Sam.

"That was your father… Kevin thought it would be fun to 'surf' a desktop down the handrails… Memories fuzzy, but I think JD was involved in the inspiration process."

Sam grinned then narrowed his eyes in thought.

"And you would know that, _how?_"

Instead of answer, Alan simply grinned and gave Sam a mock salute as he turned and walked away, calling out over his shoulder as he did so.

"I'll send out the memo to everyone, Sam. Just don't expect me to be present- I've already heard everything they'll tell you before."

* * *

Week 2- Tuesday:

"Awe, Damnit! Come on!"

A frustrated sigh escaped from Sam as he looked through the front glass at the treats the vending machine refused to release; he slammed his hand on the side of it a couple of times to no avail.

"I swear you are one step away from the dump you hunk of scrap metal."

Of course, that would be the moment that Quorra came along.

"Sam! Don't talk to Swed2.4 like that! It's not his fault they errored on his maintenance last month."

Sam looked at the machine for a second then turned back to Quorra, eyebrows raised.

"You named the vending machine Swed2.4?"

She walked over and gently patted the side of the machine, looking at him, confused over his amusement.

"Yes… Service Working Energy Dispenser… 2nd floor, 4th unit."

Sam knew he shouldn't… He really did. But despite understanding it would probably mean sleeping on the sofa for the next month, he doubled over as he burst out laughing. Quorra simply stood there and crossed her arms, tapping one foot and looking at him. When he finally collected himself he pointed at the machine.

"It's a _product_ Quorra- it doesn't have formats or intelligence- you just put money into it and it gives you what you ask for."

He gave the corner a light, fast kick.

"At least it's supposed to… This piece of junk just takes the money."

Quorra stepped in front of the machine, pushing Sam away as she looked at him coolly.

"You don't know as much as you think you do, Sam Flynn."

She turned to Swed and lovingly put a hand on the glass.

"Don't pay attention to him… I understand… But he'll sulk for the rest of the day if he doesn't get his chocolate fix… Please can you try to help; I'll make sure the company repairs your code the next time a visit is scheduled."

With that she reached around and wiggled the power chord back and forth, pressing it father into the wall jack. Using her other hand she pressed the enter button as she did so.

Presented with the marvelous view of her backside, Sam didn't notice as the gears within the machine started turning until the sound of something hitting the bottom informed him.

He made sure to look at her face as Quorra shifted back to the front and reached down, pulling out an Oh'Henry bar and handing it to Sam; she smiled triumphantly.

"See… All you have to do is ask nicely…Now… What do you say to Swed2.4?"

Sam looked at the bar with one eyebrow raised.

"I requested a Twix."

Quorra's tone took on a warning sound as she tensed her body

"S-a-m…. What. Do. You. Say. To. Swed2.4?"

Quorra stepped out of the way, and pushed him back towards the machine. Not wanting to add another month to sleeping on the sofa, Sam awkwardly patted the glass.

"Um… Thanks."

"And…"

Sam looked at her confused.

"And?"

She huffed as she threw her arms up.

"You insulted him for a malfunction he can't help… You owe him an apology."

Sam went to argue until he saw the look on Quorra's face… He was risking a _LOT_ more than mere bedroom privileges if he refused. He turned back to the machine.

"… And I'm… Sorry for yelling at you."

Quorra smiled, and her body position returned back to its usual relaxed and carefree nature. Just then the machine whirled back to life and they watched as a Twix bar dropped to the bottle. Sam's jaw dropped.

"No way…"

Quorra handed him the bar and kissed him on the cheek as she smiled.

"Told you."

* * *

Week 3- Wednesday:

If anyone asked, Alan would deny it vigorously… But inwardly he did admit to receiving a small amount of glee in watching Sam and Rinzler's ongoing war of escalation.

Which is why when Rinzler snapped his attention to the door and growled low in his throat; Alan simply sat back in his chair and prepared to enjoy the show. The cat's muscles tensed like coiling springs as his tail began to twitch back and forth. A knock on the door a few seconds later caused him to smile.

"What is it, Sam?"

Sam opened the door and Rinzler launched himself into the air with a feline battle cry, fully intending on imbedding his claws into the boy's chest.

Sam had learned a trick or two over the months, however, and he'd been prepared for the attack. As soon as the door was open, he'd lunged out of the way and lobed the cup of water he'd been holding into the cat's face. Taken by surprise, a shocked Rinzler sailed soaking wet through the opening and into the hall. Sam barrel rolled inside and leapt back, slamming the door behind him.

He grinned as the cat pounded against the door infuriated growls penetrating through wood. Leaning his back against the door, Sam called out to the cat.

"A lick it and spin you pint sized psychotic spawn of Satan."

Straightening up, Alan laughed as Sam walked towards him, looking as if he'd just concord the world.

"Proud of yourself?"

Sam sat on the top of Alan's desk as he did a mock bow, face breaking out in a huge grin.

"I have my moments."

Alan simply hummed and grinned knowingly as Sam held up a handful of files.

"Just came by quick to drop these financial reports off as you requested, and to see if you and Laura were interested in joining Quorra and I for dinner tonight."

Alan smiled warmly as he took the reports and nodded.

"We'd love to."

Sam smiled as he got up and headed to the door.

"Great… See you around 8."

Alan set the files on his desk and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk and resting his chin on his hands. His smile widened as Sam got to the door and froze. He couldn't help but chuckle quietly as the sounds of deep, enraged snarls were issued from the other side. Sam stood motionless, hand on the doorknob; at the echoes of menacing claws scraping down the wood he turned back to Alan.

"I'm beginning to see a fatal flaw in my strategy."

Alan raised one eyebrow and hummed again, but didn't say anything more. Sam squared his shoulders and stood tall as he quietly talked to himself.

"Sam… Come on… You faced this guy down when he was a 6 foot tall, armed, kung-fu flippin' enforcer… The 2 pound feline version should be a cake walk… So man up and open the damn door."

Alan made a mental note to tell Sam that, all around, he thought he handled the situation well… After all, most people don't expect to open a door only to have a half drowned hellcat literally drop down on their shoulders.

Fortunately even with the set back of accompanying Sam to the emergency ward- and the resulting 26 stitches- they still managed to make it in time for dinner.

* * *

Week 4-Thursday:

"Sam, what the _hell_ is going on here?"

Sam closed his eyes and sighed… Of _course_ Alan would decide to check in on them now… He sensed disturbances at Encom like some kind of freaking Jedi master. Off to the side, the 'program' gasped.

"_Another Tron?"_

Sam was going to correct her, but a glance at Alan told him she probably wasn't all that wrong.

In his defense, it wasn't what it looked like.

Because, what it currently looked like was he and Ed had flipped out and tied a scantily clad, exotically beautiful, angry, and confused young woman- complete with circuit like tattoos (which apparently ran _all_ the way down), weird purple irises, and _fangs- _to a chair in Encom's basement.

Okay… So maybe it _was_ exactly what it looked like…

Still Sam figured he had less than two minutes to come up with some sort of explanation, or Alan was going to make his life hell for the next decade…. Actually, he was probably going to make his life hell regardless. Either way, Sam put on his best 'please don't kill me smile' and turned to him.

"Well… The good news is Encom won't have to worry about the Melissa Virus anymore."

Alan crossed his arms, signaling to Sam to continue he looked at Ed, who kept his rapt attention and eyes on the virus. Sam wisely continued.

We went in after being sent reports that Encom's systems were being affected by something… By the time we arrived, it'd already infected half the administrative systems. Avio and Tron were handling the situation, and they told us just to get out of there… But when Melissa found out that Users were on the grid and had a way out—"

Alan interrupted.

"It decided to hitch a ride."

"_It seemed like a good idea at the time."_

Sam and Alan turned to look at her, after a moment she smiled mischievously and shrugged- well as much as she was able to, bound.

"_How could I resist?" _

Finally Ed shook his head and pulled his eyes away, looking at Alan.

"None of us saw her coming… One minute we're stepping into the portal to go home, the next something slams into us from behind and we come out with a now human virus… A rather _determined_ human virus… So, I… Tied… her… up."

Sam looked at the virus, and then at Ed, suddenly curious.

"How _did_ you manage that, by the way… she was putting up a pretty good fight."

"_Not good enough, apparently."_

Ed rolled his eyes.

"Sam… I was in high school by the time I was 11… I wore glasses, had a genius IQ, and weighed 110 pounds soaking wet… Long term survival dictated I learn a few tricks."

"_Well… This has been a treat, but if you don't mind, I think I'd like to be untied now."_

Sam lifted an eyebrow.

"So… You studied… Bondage?"

As Ed's face went red, Alan cleared his throat to get their attention; some part of Sam's mind did register the ridiculousness of the situation… But for now, all three of them seemed inclined to ignore the virus while they talked things out.

All and all, Sam thought Alan had been taking it pretty well… But he figured they have maybe one more minute before it fully sinks in, and then their screwed… That minute looms ever closer when Alan places his hands on his hips and taps one foot.

"You're telling me you two pulled a virus out of the computer."

Sam and Ed nodded.

"Any reason either of you just didn't think to delete it while you were there?"

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Sam couldn't help but smirk when he saw the virus shift uneasily in her chair.

"_Wow… Your Tron's even more of a buzz-kill than the other one… I was just having a little fun."_

"We didn't even know there was a virus when we went in there, Alan… And with Melissa being a macro/ worm combo, the only way to permanently erase her is from this side of the screen- that's why we headed back in the first place."

"_Seriously, boys…I'm sure it'll be a snap for you to repair…"_

Alan frowned, and Sam knew it was going to hit the fan.

"Wonderful Sam… That solution doesn't work so well now that she's _here_."

"_And I promise I'll never come near this system again." _

"Well, we certainly can't put her _back_… She'll either continue screwing around in our system, or use the bandwidth to move to another.

"_I mean… When you think about it, none of this is my fault."_

"Maybe she could be of some use… To us… In the real world."

"_I don't mean to be bad… I'm just programmed that way."_

Both Alan and Sam turned to Ed, who'd settled into a slight blush and was rubbing the back of his head. Sam raised an eyebrow and Ed smiled and continued.

"Viruses are getting more and more advanced… Maybe… She could help- teach us how they 'think' or something… You know- fighting fire with fire."

They turned as the virus cleared her throat.

"_Is this the option that keeps me online?"_

Ed nodded.

"Well… Yeah… I suspect your advisor skills would be rendered moot if you were dead."

The virus said nothing for a moment, and then narrowed her eyes at Alan.

"_Will your security enforcer try anything?"_

Sam looked at Alan for a moment; who simply re-crossed his arms and glared at her. He turned back to her and shrugged.

"As long as you obey the rules and behave, I don't see why we can't get along."

The virus looked down at her feet; one bare foot she drew patterns on the floor with her big toe. Finally she looked up and smiled coyly as she jerked her head towards Ed; it occurred to Sam that his life was about to get infinitely more complicated.

"_Can I have this one as my User?"_

For a moment they all just stared at her, and Sam watched as Ed's jaw hit the floor. Her smile broadened as she nodded at her bindings.

"_What? Clearly he's the processing power for this little group… And besides… I want him to show me how this 'bondage' thing works."_

Sam could barely hear over the sound of his own brain slamming to a halt as Ed choked on nothing and turned an amazing shade of crimson. Alan went rigid for a moment and then turned on his heels and walked out the door, rubbing his temple with one hand as he did. Sam was pretty sure he heard what he said as he left.

"No way in hell I get paid enough for this crap."

* * *

Week 5- Friday:

"Hey Ed, hurry it up man, we should be there by now!"

Alan looked up from the monitor at Sam's shouting just in time to see Jr. walking quickly down the hall… That wasn't so unusual; when that man was on a mission, he could break sound barriers getting from point A to B.

What _was_ unusual was the fact he was wearing a winter jacket and carrying a snow board.

Inside Encom… In July.

Alan sighed.

"Just another typical day in the Mental Ward."

His plan involved ignoring the kid, until five other people from Jr.'s team came running down the hall with similar gear and jackets.

It was the toboggan that cinched the deal.

Alan looked at Roy and raised an eyebrow, who simply groaned and then jerked his thumb in the kid's direction.

"Please go find out what the Looney Tune brigade is up to."

"Yeah… I'll do that. "

He didn't need to guess where they were instead he headed straight to the laser room. Entering the code into the key pad he walked in to the sound of excited voices. Sam and Jr. were organizing various snow gear to fit in the lasers pathway.

"Do I even _want_ to know?"

Sam and Jr. jumped as the rest of the people whipped around; Sam smiled as soon as he saw who it was.

"Alan! We did it! We got digital snow to fall in the outlands!"

Alan waited as cheers travelled around the group. He couldn't help but smile at their enthusiasm.

"And you're all going in to have some fun."

A young programmer named Alex popped her head up and grinned.

"Ah, come on Alan… Can you blame us? It's a freakin' 109 degrees out there, and all we have to do is skip on over to the grid to bask in a winter wonderland."

Sam's grin grew bigger.

"Besides, a lot of the programs are interested in learning what User's do for fun... And I told Tron I'd teach him how to snowboard."

Alan began to calculate every way this could end in disaster. Still looking at all the eager faces, he couldn't help but feel like the parent of kids desperately hoping they can go out to play. He smiled as he pointed at Sam.

"You're responsible for everyone out there- human _and _digital- so while it may go against your nature… Behave! … More so, if you do anything to damage _my_ program I will come in there and personally _kick_ your ass."

Sam lunged forward, surprising him with an impromptu hug as the rest of the group broke out cheering again; before Alan could react, the kid was already leaping away and turning to the others.

"Alright, I'll code in the last finishing touches on the ski runs- everyone get ready for digitizing."

Alan suddenly was struck with an idea. And while it could only be described as immature and devious at best, he couldn't resist. So he went to over to Sam and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll take care of everything on this side you go and get ready with the others."

Sam beamed.

"Thanks, Alan."

"Don't mention it."

He waited just long enough for Sam to not see what he was coding in, and then he began to type furiously. After a few minutes, he'd put his plan into action. Looking over at the kids in their gear he couldn't help but let his grin show; he gave them a wave.

"Have fun!"

Alan pushed the key that activated the laser. A bright light later he was alone in the room. He walked out of the room, chuckling… Now all he had to do was wait.

It was only thirty minutes on this side… He only had a rough estimate of what that translated to in the grid when Sam came walking up, soaked with digital melted snow- although he didn't know how that was possible- to playfully glare at him.

"Cute, Alan… Very cute."

Roy looked at Sam, and then turned to Alan.

"Why… What did you do?"

Alan leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head as he smiled up at Sam.

"After last week… You had it coming."

Sam rolled his eyes and pointed at Alan as he looked at Roy.

"Old faithful here offered to put the 'finishing touches' on our digital ski resort… What he _didn't_ mention was that he also sent Tron instructions on how to execute the perfect snowball fight… We went in expecting winter wonderland- and got a snowy World War three."

Roy whipped around to look at Alan; after a second they both burst out laughing. After a second Sam joined in.

"Okay, old man… You win."

Alan playfully slapped Sam on the back.

"Fundamental law of age and treachery, kiddo."

Sam looked confused.

"Huh?"

Alan smiled with a glint in his eyes.

"Age and treachery will _always_ overcome youth and enthusiasm."

* * *

Week 6- Saturday:

"It's not _fair!_"

Sam head jerked up as Melissa entered his office, Ed close behind already mouthing 'sorry' as he closed the door behind him; Sam put down the reports he'd been reading and leaned back already regretting allowing the virus back into Encom.

"What isn't?"

Ed groaned as he sat down across from Sam; Melissa growled and went over to the corner, plopping herself down on the carpet.

"I used to scare people… They cried my name in _terror_… Now all they do is look at me like I have a second processor."

Sam turned to Ed; he had a feeling this was going to be interesting. Ed sighed.

"She's mad because she can't infect and kill people with her touch anymore… She's been trying for the last hour."

Sam drummed his fingers on the desk.

"Please tell me she didn't try anything more than that."

Ed shifted in his seat for a moment, and Sam began to count down the seconds until his next headache arrived.

"Well, turns out she doesn't need much sleep… And she loves watching the Sci-Fi channel… Let's just say last night's reruns of Star Trek have her determined to master the 'Vulcan neck pinch'…. I… Managed to stop her before she attempted that one on anybody."

The virus sighed as she stared out into space.

"Ah… Data… Now there's some circuitry it'd love to run my hands on."

Sam groan as the headaches first pulse ran across his temples. As Ed simply shook his he, the virus threw her hands up and turned to glare at Sam.

"What? I want to understand what built in capabilities this form has, in case there was a situation that required action… And this form- by the way- has proven to be both annoying and unpredictable…But when I asked Ed about it he just mentions something called 'hormones' and runs off."

Sam looked at now blushing programmer as he put his head in one hand and waved the other in his direction.

"Don't ask… Dear lord, please don't ask."

Sam smiled patiently at Ed while Melissa continued her rant.

"I swear I only tried it on service programs… Anyway- if it _had _worked, you could have just created more… the current ones all seem defective- so I thought you'd appreciate the chance to upgrade…"

Ed sighed as he swiveled his chair to look at her.

"Melissa… What was the first thing we said you couldn't do we agreed to let you stay here?"

The virus muttered under her breath as she picked at the carpet with one hand.

"I didn't hear that, Mel."

She sighed, and rolled her head over to look at Ed.

"You said I wasn't allowed to kill anyone, for any reason… No matter how much they might deserve it."

It occurred to Sam in that moment that the fact they had to make a rule like that pretty much proved they were all mad. He's thoughts were broken up when the virus jumped up and giggled at something. Following his eye line, he saw Rinzler stalking his way down the hall, oblivious to the coming assault. The virus jumped up and rushed out the door.

"Kitty!"

Though they couldn't see what was going on that far down the hall, it didn't take a genius to guess as the cat's screech filled the room. Sam looked at Ed, who simply stared back as he calmly replied.

"She discovered she likes fuzzy thing… Especially _living_ fluffy things… It's only been two days and the neighborhood animals have all learned to flee at her approach."

Sam looked at the hall as another wail signaled Rinzler's distain for the virus' affection. He looked back at Ed.

"I almost feel sorry for him."

Ed shook his head, and smiled slightly.

"Don't… I also came in here to tell you left your leather jacket here last night."

Sam frowned.

"So… Rinzler tore on arm to shreds… Then hacked up a hairball on it."

Sam let his head fall to his desk, as the headache finally emerged full strength.

"I'm killing that damn cat… I'm firing you just because… And I'm running off with Quorra to Taiwan."

Suddenly Melissa called out from the hall, questions coming in rapid fire.

"Ed… What is this red liquid coming out of my arms? Do I need it? How do I put it back in? It's the same color as that juice this morning... does that mean I can drink it? Oh! Do you have liquid to! Could I drink yours and see if it tastes different? Ed? …Why is everyone looking at me strange again?"

Ed looked at the hall, and then back to Sam.

"Please take me with you."

* * *

Week 7- Sunday:

"Hey Alan, steaks are almost done!"

Alan opened his eyes and waved at Sam, who was busy hovering over the barbeque on the back porch. Alan loved Sunday's. It was the one day he allowed himself to completely ignore work and relax. He shut his eyes again and enjoyed the sound of the people around him.

He especially loved Sunday get-togethers when Laura and Jet were able to make it down from Washington- it felt like family. He smiled as a familiar weight settled onto his lap and began purring; he lifted his hand to stroke behind the cat's ears and it soon fell to sleep.

"User Bradley- why aren't I allowed to climb up the tree to see the squirrels?"

Alan opened his eyes to see Melissa standing a few feet away, clearly confused.

"And how come the Quorra is allowed to tell me to 'piss off' when I talk to her, but when I do it I get in trouble for being 'rude'?"

Alan chuckled; Melissa was proving to be a handful, but enduring at the same time.

"We're cutting her some slack because of past experiences… But I'll talk to her later if you like."

"Thank you, User Bradley."

"Alan… Just Alan is fine."

"Oh… Thank you… Alan."

Alan watched as she walked off, taking the opportunity to looked around at people mingling in his back yard. His wife, his sons- biological and honorary- old friends and new friends, and two programs who couldn't be more different if they tried.

"Hey Roy, toss over the Frisbee man, I'll have you a game."

Alan smiled as Roy and Jr. began trading barbs, as Quorra and Melissa walked out onto the grass.

"Can we play to?"

"Sure… Just… Remember- this is Frisbee, not Disk Wars… You throw them _towards_ the other person- don't hurl it _at_ them."

"Hey dad, want a beer."

Alan turned to see Jet holding one out; he took it and smiled up at him.

"Thanks."

Jet motioned as if tipping a hat and walked off to join the game as Laura strolled out from the kitchen, setting a salad on the patio table. She smiled and walked over, sitting in the lawn chair next to him and snuggling close.

He looked around at everyone and sighed in contentment… Some he'd loved for years, others he found himself growing to love; because for all the insanity, the headaches, the misunderstandings, the heartaches, and trials- there was one great truth.

They were all on the same team.

They were family.

* * *

Okay... So, seriously... Prompts would be nice... I've got a few ideas in the wings, but I'm going to run out otherwise. (Doesn't have to be much) as always, reviews are loved and cherished.

So...

Monday) Inspired by 'Sam/Ed racing office chairs' prompt by Hoppnhorn... And don't try to convince me Alan and Flynn didn't have their own insane moments back in the day...

Tuesday) Prompted by hoppnhorn who reminded me of the interview with actress who played Quorra stating that she could see Quorra in the real world trying to make friends with toasters and talking to computers.

Wednesday) Yeah... Continuity is going to be somewhat haphazard on these... But Rinzler kitty is here to stay... There's just WAY too much fun to be had with him.

Thursday) I had to... Because a virus out in the real world is its own kind of fun... Oh... Melissa virus is a real virus btw... and it is a macro/worm cross. Supposed to be extremely hard to get rid once it infects a system.

Friday) because I always thought digital weather could be a cool thing to explore... and I felt the need to let Alan have some pay back.

Saturday) Once again... Virus + Sam + a blushing Ed = fun.

Sunday) thus proven that even crack has room for fluff. :D


	3. Melissa At The Park (aka Poor Jr)

"Why do those Users have mechanical footwear?"

Ed sighed and looked at the evening sky as he prepared to answer what was approximately the millionth question Melissa had asked him tonight. Looking down at the parks walkway he watched the rollerbladers zip by while Melissa continued to stare.

"They're called 'Rollerblades'... It's a form of recreation among humans. They allow you to move faster than usual, and are used to play certain games."

It had been a little over twenty-four hours since Melissa had been brought into the 'real' world, and it had soon become apparent to him that she was determined to learn as much as possible as quickly as possible.

She looked thoughtful for a moment and then turned to him.

"Faster mobility could be advantageous... I require a copy of these 'Rollerblades'."

Ed snorted, and held her arm, guiding her farther down the path.

"How about we get you better adapted at moving under your own power before we strap a pair of wheels to you."

From stories Sam told him of Quorra's first days as a human- it seemed some clumsiness was natural; but that didn't make it any less humorous to watch what amounted to a 25 year old looking viral killing machine stumble around a room as she tried to calculate related distances to objects without aid of spatial definition encoding.

Of course, five seconds after realizing the laughter came at her expense, both he and Sam learned that 'awkward mobility' did not translate to 'unable to ground pound unsuspecting programmers'... He was thankful for Quorra's presence, even if it was a blow to their 'manliness'.

Ultimately it had led to the creation of a list now forever dubbed 'The Sacred Rules'... A list currently 19 items long- but growing every day- of things Melissa was absolutely, 100%, under no circumstances allowed to do.

Rule one had been simple... Under no circumstances was she allowed to kill or maim any human, User, or program... Ed cringed at remembering exactly how long it had taken them to get her to agree to that condition.

"AH! Fuzzy quadrupedal companion program!"

Ed snapped out of his reverie just in time to see Melissa shoot across a field, half running over to where a man was taking his dog for a walk. He rolled his eyes and quickly followed, more than aware of how awkward this could become.

He watched as Melissa said something to the man, who nodded as he laughed. She got down on her knees and wrapped the very surprised Labrador in a hug, burying her face in the fur.

This was one area where Quorra and Melissa differed substantially. While Quorra admitted that tactile touch was a new experience- and therefore garnered more exploration- for programs, she didn't quite have the same need for it as Melissa.

After spending over four hours last night watching the virus either touch, smell, or taste almost everything she came into contact with- and boy did _that_ lead to some rather interesting discussions on appropriate behaviour and personal boundary setting- he'd finally just written it off as a 'viral' thing.

Now as he came to stand beside the dog and owner- who simply nodded at him and raised an eyebrow- he tapped Melissa on the shoulder. She turned and narrowed her eyes in a rough attempt at a pout.

"I didn't just 'glomp' the User's Companion Program … I asked first."

Ah… Rule number 13, created right after discovering about 'pets' by assaulting the neighbour's cat… 'No hugging, grabbing, or mauling any pet unless the owner is present and gives permission- then you may proceed'…

She hadn't liked that rule any more than the first one.

"Yes… A fact of which I'm very impressed with… But I think the 'dog' would like its head back."

Melissa turned back to the animal, who was slowly trying to back away even with the unbreakable death grip the virus still had locked around its neck. However, when the dog glanced back at Melissa- who was glaring at its escape attempts- it froze as some latent survival instinct probably used to sense dominant predators obviously activated.

She seemed to be contemplating something, and Ed found himself having a pretty good idea of what that was; he cleared his throat to get her attention.

"NO…You can't integrate his code… This isn't a computer system and dogs don't work like that… Now please let the poor animal go before it ends up choking to death."

Sensing a common ally, the dog rolled its eyes over to Ed and whined softly. Melissa reluctantly let go of the dog who quickly bolted to its owner and huddled around his legs. The virus huffed and crossed her arms, stomping off down the path. Ed politely glanced at the owner, who stood there with a mixed expression of extreme confusion and amusement, and offered a crooked smile as he pointed at her.

"She's still adapting to life outside the gird- although for someone who spent the last 2097 cycles as a ferocious virus you have to admit, she's doing quite well."

Ed didn't stick around for a reply… He simply turned and walked away as the man stood there with eyes wide; he smiled at the knowledge that at least they'd given the man one hell of a story to tell.

Catching up quickly to Melissa, he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"So… Penny for your thoughts…"

Melissa glanced at him, confused by the expression, but apparently grasping the meaning; she growled low in her throat.

"I'd like this system better if I still had my viral coding… At least that way I could simply alter, take over, or de-rezz everything that didn't submit to my wishes."

Ed laughed.

"Yeah… Real world logic sucks- don't it?"

She threw her arms up.

"Everything's just so…_ Different_ here… Gigacycles of being the very engine of chaos, of doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to do it- and now there's a list of rules that I _have_ to follow or I get stuck in something Sam called a 'slammer'… It…. It… SUCKS!"

For a moment Ed didn't know what to say… I mean… Really- how does one respond to that; looking up at a vending cart down the walkway however, he thought he had a pretty good idea. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a quick hug.

"The trick of it… The real fun of this world comes from knowing the rules, and finding ways to incorporate the chaos within them."

She looked at him, clearly not fully understanding the concept. Ed smiled

"Humans enjoy their 'chaos' just as much as anyone else… In fact, you might find people in this system are far more chaotic than any computer system you may have come across."

He pointed at the ice-cream vending cart, leaning in closer to her.

"And face it- Earth's not so bad- at least this place has Ben and Jerry's."

Melissa looked up and a smile beamed across her face as she saw the cart.

"Is that a distributing unit for that substance called 'ice-cream' you gave me last night?"

Ed nodded and smiled.

"Want some."

"Yes... Now… um… Please."

Ed chuckled as he went to step forward. Suddenly something glided down right in front of them and Melissa squeaked and jumped back, pointing.

"Identity disk!"

Ed looked at the Frisbee at their feet, and then at the group of male teens pointing in their direction. Looking back at Melissa, he watched as she picked it up and fiddled with it, first trying to activate it, then settled for studying its shape.

"This one's malfunctioning."

Ed chuckled.

"It's not a disk, it's a Frisbee… People throw it back and forth between each other for entertainment… It's a game… And I think those people want it back."

Melissa looked up at the young male as he lifted one hand, signalling he was ready to catch it.

"Right this way, sweet cheeks."

Ed never considered himself the jealous type, but was surprised at the indignation he felt at the teen's choice of words.

He went to say something but was stopped dead in his tracks as Melissa narrowed her eyes, raised the Frisbee back behind her head, and coiled every muscle in her body. Before he could shout a warning or tell her to stop, she' spun around, launching the hard plastic disk in a fiercely graceful arc with every ounce of strength she had.

Which turned out to be a _LOT_ more than Ed would have thought possible.

The Frisbee hurled it way back to its owner, slamming into the side of his head and dropping him like a stone; he didn't think the kid was unconscious, but he doubted he'd be dancing a jig any time soon. The other males stood around with their jaws wide open as Ed turned to look at Melissa; she simply smiled coyly at him.

"Yep… Disk Wars… I'm aware of that game."

She raised her head high and squared her shoulders.

"_NOBODY_ calls me 'sweet' and walks away intact."

Ed simply stared at her for a moment before collecting himself; he laughing incredulously.

"MELISSA!"

Melissa shrugged as her playful smile grew wider.

"What?! I neither de-rezzed or maimed any of them… See… Like you said, playing by the rules while still inflicting chaos."

She leaned in close and- even though some part of him was aware of people shouting at them in the distance- for that moment they might as well have been the only two on the planet.

"I'm _very_ good at that."

With that she turned and walked towards the ice-cream cart, putting a little extra swish into her hips. Ed watched jaw hanging open as he realized what he'd just unleashed.

"The world is officially screwed."


	4. Ghost In the Grid

Authors Notes: So I have a playlist that I compiled to get me in the headspace of writing in the Tron universe. This fic was inspired by one of those songs.

'Rinzler' from the official 'Tron: Legacy" soundtrack.

It's strange, standing here- so separate from something that once was the center of my world. The ledge I'm position on give me a complete 'birds-eye-view'- lets me see all that I need to; honed code lets me hear the battle cries from the arena even at this distance. Part of me wants to get closer, whispers that it's just to have a look- nothing more.

I push it down, bury it deep with the rest of the dark thoughts I can't afford to entertain.

Nobody questioned when I said I wouldn't fight another game of any kind- no matter how 'innocent' the User's had made them. Sam and Ed had simply shrugged, Alan had studied me for a moment, but whatever he saw staring back kept him from asking anything further. Interesting, none of the programs even asked- content to assume it was because of my time as Rinzler; that the carnage I was 'forced' to create left a bitter sting in my circuits- pushing me away from the games with sickening recall.

The truth is far more unnerving.

I know what the User's tell me… What Sam, Ed, Roy, and Alan insist; that Rinzler is gone- my format is completely 'restored'. But that doesn't stop his 'ghost' from gnawing inside me.

Part of him is still here, and they don't know; because I can never let them learn the truth.

Perhaps Rinzler wasn't a defect, not an errant piece of code Clu used against me. Perhaps he'd always been there- shifting in the shadows- a dark reflection; the predator within. Rinzler didn't relish the violence of the games because of Clu- he was drawing to them because I'd craved the challenge and thrill that came with them.

There a part of me that I'm ashamed of; part of me that longs to draw my disks and rush back to the arena to kill once more. That yearns for the thrill of the chase- that _misses_ it; misses the awed terror programs exhibited when they realized what was hunting them. It sickens me outright when I can't remember if that is new- or if I'd always felt that way.

I shake when I force myself when I analyze it too hard- my processors knowing I shouldn't ask questions I don't want the answers to.

I have to turn away now… Go back on patrol- somewhere far- where the call of the arena can't reach me. Rinzler's ghost is stirring louder now, and- User help me- I'm not sure I'm strong enough to say no. Not to that. Not to him.

Not to something that's always been part of me.

No, I'll never fight in the games again. Not out of outrage or horror, but because I _long_ for it; long for the cheering crowd and the flash of energy as I showed them how feeble their efforts were against me. Ache for that rush of power when an opponent realizes their life will be decided within the glowing whirl of twin disks.

That is my secret, my burden; my horror. It's not residual coding or stray commands from an alien program; it's just me. And- sweet mercy of the Users- that terrifies me far more than anything else possibly could.


	5. A Father's Gift

Alan looked at the small, haphazardly wrapped parcel that had just been placed on his desk. He smiled at the thing, an ugly looking parcel whose outsides comprised of plastic bags with 'Encom' on the side, and office tape.

He glanced up at the bearer of the 'gift' and smiled as he simply stepped away from his desk and fidgeted on the spot, hands twisting nervously in a gesture so unlike the man himself Alan could only chuckle slightly as he picked up the parcel and felt the weight, attempting a guess.

"Tron… Really- you shouldn't have."

* * *

"Alan-One… What is 'Father's Day?"

Alan stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Tron, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. Tron gave him a nervous smile and looked at the ground; it never failed to make him chuckle that a program who was the champion of two systems could still manage to look like a child appealing to a parent.

"It's exactly what it sounds like, a day that comes once a year where children- young and old- honour their fathers for the work and sacrifices they made."

Tron looked off into the distance, processing the information; after a minute, Alan put a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention once more.

"Out of curiosity, how did you find out about it in the first place?"

Tron shrugged.

"Some of the Users have been talking about it… And I overheard Alex asking Cole what he was getting his father…. It…. I mean…. I was intrigued."

Alan gave Tron's shoulder a gentle squeeze as he guided him along, continuing there walk… It had become a routine for them to spend time together their when work allowed, and Alan had come to think of Tron as family. As they began to walk, Alan decided to elaborate.

"Father's day comes on the third Sunday of June- and is usually a day were fathers are 'pampered'… Family will usually get together to celebrate, as well as eat cake… I always liked that part."

Tron nodded to himself.

"And giving of gifts is also a requirement."

Alan laughed.

"No… Not a requirement… It's something people do. Usually the gift is small, something personal- to let the father know what they mean to that person."

"Oh."

Tron grew quiet, and they walked in comfortable silence for a while. Finally Alan nudged his shoulder and pointed at the newly built training area.

"Hey… Didn't you promise to introduce me to the new trainees? What do you say us old timers go over and show them a trick or two?!"

Tron's face broke out in a broad smile as he chuckled. He placed one hand on Alan's shoulder and made a sweeping gesture with the other.

"Sounds fun… Although, I'd have to say- against you- they probably don't stand a chance."

* * *

"I… It's not much… But I… wanted to."

Alan smiled as he picked up the gift and walked around the desk, signalling at Tron to join him on the sofa he'd placed in his office. Tron hesitated a moment and then walked quickly over, sitting next to him; he sat on the edge- every muscle tense as if Alan was suddenly going to attack him.

Alan searched the parcel, trying to find a convenient starting point to open it, only to come to the conclusion that Tron probably used an entire roll of tape on it. He chuckled as he held it up and looked at Tron.

"You and Jet clearly have the same principles of wrapping… It's not truly wrapped unless it takes an hour to open."

Tron tensed further and went to say something; Alan cut him off.

"_Relax_ Tron, it's funny is all… I'm notorious for using duct tape as a packaging resource- so I'm the last guy who can complain."

Alan fished around in his pocket, eventually pulling out a Swiss army knife. He flipped open the small blade and smiled at Tron.

"Besides… I come prepared."

The tape put up a valiant struggle, but was no match for the blade, and in short time Alan had removed the makeshift wrapping paper to reveal a box. He opened it up and took a look inside.

And gasped in surprise…

* * *

It had been a short while after Sam's return that he had opened up to Alan and told him everything. While Alan mourned for Flynn, he couldn't help but feel anger; so many suffered and a good portion of it could have been prevented if the idiot had simply _told _someone.

It was a little while longer before Sam came to him with an invite to see the Grid for himself; Alan just wished it was under happier circumstances.

"It's Tron… Alan, the guy's been through hell and back- and no matter what I tell him, he just buries it behind a mask and pretends everything is alright… I've been trying to sort out the Rinzler coding- because I _KNOW_ that's not helping the situation- but it's proving to be a real bitch to get rid of."

Sam sighed as he stood by the digital laser.

"I don't know… Maybe the guy just needs some space… But something tells me if he keeps up like he is, he's going to snap and completely lose it or something… I figured maybe if you were to talk to him, he might listen."

Alan stepped into the lasers pathway.

"Sam… You had my attention after 'Tron's in trouble'… Let's just go in there and see what we can do."

They went through… And after Alan's initial shock of seeing the Grid in all its wonder for the first time, they set out to find Tron. They didn't have to look long; Tron had come in response to seeing the portal open. He came around a corner, looking at a data pad.

"Sam… There's been a rumour of Clu loyalists making trouble in sector 12, I've sent a few monitors to keep the peace, but apparently they've ransacked Flynn's hideout in the outlands… I thought we'd head out—"

Tron froze as he looked up from the pad and noticed Alan… Alan simply stood, mouth agape, at the sight of a much younger version of himself standing only a few feet away.

"Alan-One,"

It was the reverent tone that snapped Alan out of his daze. He looked at Tron, noticing the damaged blue circuits which flickered faintly with red. Meeting Tron's eyes he watched as the program went rigid and dropped his gaze; he glanced briefly at Sam before stepping back and turning to walk away.

"Excuse me Sam; I didn't realize you brought a guest… This situation is nothing we can't handle, I will continue with my investigation."

Sam stepped forward quickly, reaching out and grabbing Tron's arm.

"Great… I'll check out sector 12… You and Alan can find out what happened in the outlands."

Tron went to say something but Sam had already turned around and began speaking into a comm link.

"Avio… Can you inform the monitors in Sector 12 that I'm on my way there? ...Tron and Alan are going to search the hideout… Thanks, man."

Alan walked up to Tron, who sighed and looked over, giving him a strained smile.

"The buggy Sam designed is not far from here- it will be able to make the trip… We should get moving."

Alan nodded and followed Tron as he turned and walked away.

The drive out had proven to be uneventful until reaching the ruins of a demolished city. Alan's jaw dropped as he looked at the devastation all around. Tron glanced over and then tightened his grip on the wheel. When he spoke, his voice was lifeless.

"During the Purge, Clu destroyed every colony the ISOs had created. Anyone found harbouring a 'fugitive program' was equally dealt with… In less than one cycle Clu took the ISO population from hundreds of thousands to only a handful."

Alan looked on, hushed by a combination of respect for the dead, and horror at what happened. He looked over, noticing the haunted expression on Tron's face. He startled at the sudden rage which rose up for everything the administrative program forced onto the Grid and its inhabitants.

"Clu was a monster, Tron… This city is proof of that… And what he did to _you_… Don't ever let yourself think that was your fault.… You fought for this system, and you…"

Tron interrupted him, gripping the wheel harder than Alan would have thought possible and clenching his jaw and he made the effort to glance over and hold Alan's gaze for a moment.

"And I _FAILED_… Clu led the original strike… I was sent in to finish the job… Basics, Programs- ISOs… Even the ones helpless and trapped by debris, I didn't care... I cut them all down and loved every minute of it… Whatever it took, I served my 'master'…. If Clu was a monster- what does that make me?"

Alan looked at the ruins of city around them and then back at Tron.

"It makes you a person I'm proud of… Someone who has evolved beyond anything I could have ever believed. Who could have his whole world ripped away from him, have his very code mutilated in a violation no one should ever have to endure, and still- when everything was on the line- find a way to break free and save both Users and the Grid."

Alan watched; as he spoke Tron slowed the buggy, coming to a stop and turning to face him. Alan reached out and put a gentle hand on his shoulder; he smiled fondly at him.

"I wasn't there for you then, Tron… and I'm sorry for that… God- you don't know how sorry I am… But I'm here now- and I'll be damned if I let you do this to yourself."

Tron glanced at Alan's hand on his shoulder, and then looked up, staring off into the distance as his jaw clenched and flexed; finally he turned back.

"Thank you… Alan-One"

* * *

Alan reached in and delicately pulled out the object, running a hand over its smooth surface. He looked at Tron, eyes wide, who simply smiled back at him.

"I had help… Sam and Ed created the coding that would allow me transport it into the User world… Although- I don't think it will function in any real context here."

Alan chuckled, running a thumb over the edge… He could almost swear he heard a faint electrical hum while he did so; he sighed.

"Tron… I… I can't…. This is too much—"

Tron shook his head, interrupting.

"No… I want you to have it… It's not actually functional in the system either- the formats to old… And… I…"s

Tron looked at his hands for a moment, and fidgeted where he sat; Alan waited until he finally looked up, nodding his head as encouragement.

"You said this day was about honouring your parent… I… I don't have a father… But you are my creator, Alan, and I thought- maybe- that was sort of the same..."

Alan looked away, blinking back tears as the words sunk in. He turned back to Tron

"Yeah… I guess it is."

* * *

They arrived to Flynn's home in silence, both lost in thought.

Upon reaching the habitat, it was clear that the hideout had indeed been raided; objects where broken or tossed aside, and glass shattered. Alan froze at the growl that came from Tron's throat.

"Clu backtracked Flynn's lightcycle… These coordinates would have been logged by whoever found it… When I get my hands on the programs responsible for this, I'm going to—"

"Realize that this is a difficult time for everyone- and understand that just because Clu is gone doesn't mean his 'legacy' will simply dissolve overnight… And be thankful that nothing got damaged that couldn't easily be replaced."

Alan smiled at Tron who sighed in frustration; his red circuits once again shifting back into blue… He paced the room for a second and then turned back nodding his head in Alan's direction.

"Your right… It could have been worse… I'm…. Forgive me, Alan-One."

Alan chuckled.

"Nothing to forgive… It's called 'dogged-determination' and you get that from me… Some people will call it 'stubbornness'… Best just to ignore them."

Alan winked at Tron, who looked confused for a moment before chuckling quietly to himself; that was the moment Alan decided he would do everything in his power to help Tron.

Walking over a large pile of smashed debris, he didn't see the small glowing object until his foot kicked it across the floor. Curiosity peaked, Alan strolled over to where it coasted and picked it up, shaking the glass fragments off it; he held it up and watched as cylinders of light danced along circuitry embedded in it.

Alan hummed deep in his throat and glanced around for Tron.

"Tron… Come take a look… I found something… Interesting."

Tron quickly made his way over. When Alan held the object up, he froze, eyes widening in surprise. Without another word he walked forward and held his hand out, quietly pleading to hold the object; after a moment, Alan handed it over.

The lights on it, which had flickered briefly, suddenly glowed radiant blue as Tron ran a hand down the smooth surface. Alan continued to watch as his program regarded the object with something akin to awe.

"Flynn must have found it and brought it here… He kept it… All these years."

"Kept what?... What is it?"

Tron looked down at the small object and held it out for Alan to study. Very faint, within surface was binary coding; in the very center was a designation key… JA-307020. Alan looked up in surprise as Tron smiled softly at him.

"This was the Disk I had when I battled the MCP."

* * *

Alan held Tron's old identity Disk in his hand. Holding it up to the light he could barely make out the binary coding etched into the surface of it. Where blue circuitry was normally found was now simple blue lines. He flipped the Disk over and looked at the center, smiling at the simple phrase embedded in the core of the Disk.

Alan ran his hands along the surface once again, and then gave the Disk an experimental toss straight up in the air; he smiled at the perceived hum as the Disk seemed to whirl and then drop back down into his hands. He turned to look at Tron, who smiled shyly.

"You helped me through a difficult time… And the Disk helped... I thought… I just thought that maybe it was time for someone else to carry it; that someone now might need it more than me."

Alan reached out his hand, and placed it warmly on the back of Tron's neck, giving it a friendly squeeze.

"Tron… Of anything you could have given me… I… Thank you… This means more than I could ever say."

Tron blushed at Alan's words and stood up quickly as Alan pulled his hand away.

"I should be getting back… I told Avio I would return as soon as possible."

Alan stood up, raising a hand to signal him to stop.

"Wait… Believe it or not, I've actually got something for you to."

* * *

Alan's jaw dropped for what felt like the hundredth time since coming here as Tron handed him back the Disk.

"You mean…?"

Tron nodded.

"This was the Disk which I threw into the core of the MCP- the one you encoded the night Flynn got transported into the Encom system…"

Alan smiled.

"Yeah… I remember that night… That was the first time Kevin convinced me to do something completely insane… I'm happy to report it wasn't the last."

"When I came here, Flynn upgraded me and given a new Disk… But I kept this one for 'sentimental value'- as Flynn put it… It… It reminded me of you- and what its function represented."

Alan cocked his head, unable to guess what that representation might have been.

"And what was that."

Tron's smile faded as he broke out of his reverie. He looked at the Disk and stepped back, shoulder's dropping. As he spoke, the words came out harsh and choked.

"That there's always a chance."

He laughed bitterly.

"Sure learned my lesson… Didn't I?"

Alan watched as Tron continued backing up until he hit a wall. Turning away from Alan he slid down the wall, coming to sit on the floor. His heart broke as the sound of Tron choking back sobs echoed in the room.

Suddenly Tron growled and his circuits flared red. He pushed himself up, crouching on the balls of his feet as he ran his hands through his hair. He jerked towards the wall and pulled a fist back and hammered it into the wall, over and over again.

Alan placed the Disk on the fireplace mantle and quickly walked over to Tron, kneeling beside him and wrapping him in a hug. For a moment Tron struggled, but as the frantic flicker of his circuits continued he pushed into the embrace and buried his head in Alan's chest; Alan simply held him as deep gut wrenching sobs caused Tron's entire body to shudder.

At a loss for anything better to do, Alan gently rocked slightly as he muttered encouragements to the fractured program.

"It's going to be alright Tron… I know you don't believe that now- but you're going to get through this… And this time I'm going to be here for you… I promise you Tron, I won't let you deal with this on your own- I'll be with you every step of the way… We'll get through this…"

It wasn't until much later, after Tron had quieted and had even seemed to fall asleep that he allowed himself to move from his position; which caused his knees to scream in protest of forcing them to endure the floor for that length. He walked over and grabbed the Disk off the mantle, and then sat next to Tron angling him so that his head rested on one of his legs; he passed the time by having a closer look at the Disk, and making a minor alteration

It was a while after that Tron finally rebooted, slowly coming online. When he opened his eyes he jerked up, and Alan watched his cheeks flushed as he pulled away to sit next to him.

"I'm sorry, Alan-One,"

Alan sighed.

"Stop apologizing, Tron… And please, just call me Alan."

Alan held the Disk up.

"Here… Flynn knew this was important to you- he'd want you to have it back."

Tron shook his head as a pained expression ran across his face.

"I'm not that champion anymore… I'm a failed program- broken beyond repair… I don't deserve it."

Alan sighed as a flicker of anger pushed forward and he found his voice taking the commanding tone he reserved for extreme circumstance.

"Tron… That's enough… This ends now!"

Tron jerked back, surprise overriding his ability to respond; Alan continued and hoped his words would get through.

"_YES_ what Clu did to you was horrible… And what he forced you to do was even worse… But that was NOT your fault- it was his. So _stop_ even trying to put the weight of the entire grid on your shoulders… I am your programmer, and I do NOT create junk!.. And I will not tolerate you believing otherwise… You were the best program I ever wrote- and it is both disheartening and insulting for you of all people to suggest otherwise."

He stopped, and for a moment, Tron and him looked at each other in silence.

"Do you understand me, JA-307020?"

Alan didn't know what made him use Tron's designation, but suddenly Tron's shoulders squared and his head raised and Alan knew it was the right thing to have done.

"Yes… I understand Alan-On-…Alan."

Alan winced as he got up while Tron simply bounded up; Alan sighed at the reminder of how old he'd gotten. He held the Disk out once more.

"The next while is going to be hard on you... Harder than anything you've faced before. But through it all, there are two things I want you always to remember."

"Yes?"

"First… Not being able to save the world doesn't make you a failure… At worst- it makes you human; and you are stronger than any circumstance that you will ever face- don't let anyone tell you differently… Secondly- just because you're strong doesn't mean you can't or shouldn't ask for help. We're here for you- all of us- so if you ever need a shoulder ASK… We'll be here."

Tron took the Disk and nodded as he traced the circuitry with one hand. Alan sighed and put an arm around his shoulder. For a second Tron tensed in surprise and then relaxed. Alan leaned in, smiling.

"Hate to break it to you… But you're stuck with me now... Whatever tomorrow brings- we'll handle it together.

This time when Tron smiled it was open and warm, and Alan found himself returning it almost unconsciously. Flipping the Disk in his hands, Tron stopped, and his smile turned to confusion as he ran a thumb over a new engraving in the center of the Disk.

"What is this? It wasn't here before."

"An addition I added… A new directive for you to remember when things seem a little overwhelming.

Tron read the inscription, and grew quiet. After a second he reached up with one arm and placed it around Alan's shoulders.

"Thank you, Alan… I will create a subroutine for it.

Alan chuckled as they walked like that to the elevator- creator and program shoulder to shoulder.

"You do that."

* * *

Alan quickly looked through his desk as he kept talking.

"After our talk about father's day I did some thinking, and something occurred to me. I was just waiting for the right moment to give this to you… I think this is it."

Finding what he was looking for, he held it out to Tron… Grabbing the item Tron read the inscription on it, his eyes going wide as a multitude of emotions passed across his face... It was a simple metal plague with a sentence written out in binary.

You don't raise a hero, you raise a son. And if you treat him like a son, he might one day rise to be a hero- for it is not flesh and blood, but heart which builds the man.

Tron looked up at Alan, hope transforming his features and making him appear like a child.

"I don't… You… I…"

Alan laughed as Tron simply lunged forward and wrapped him in a tight bear hug in replace of words. Alan returned the hug as he continued chuckling.

"I'm proud of you, kiddo… Always have been, always will be"

He glanced down at the Disk sitting on his desk, the words he'd written over a year ago shinning back at him.

Even in the darkest hour, hope remains.

Tron sighed as he squeezed a little tighter.

"Happy father's day…Dad."


	6. Same Insanity, Different Day

**Authors Notes: So, this takes place during the same timeline as chapter 2. (Same Insanity, Different Day) It's about 4 days after Melissa is pulled from the system.**

It was Saturday.

For Ed, that usually meant that he got two hours more sleep and only worked two thirds of the day.

Of course… That was before Melissa stormed into his life and turned it upside down.

Because this Saturday, rather than waking up to gentle music playing softly on the radio, he shot awake to bright sunshine streaming through the window and someone bouncing on the end of his bed while systemically ripping the covers off.

It's like being stuck with a psychotic, hyperactive five year old spawned from a demented dream…

He groaned, feeling that- while he may not be fully justified in the action- it non-the-less suited the situation. Cracking one eye open he jerked fully awake when he discovered that Melissa's face was only 5 inches away from his and she wore a smile that would have scared the hell out of the Cheshire Cat. She pointed at the window as her smile- impossibly so- grew wider.

"It's morning!"

Ed turned his head to glance over at the clock on his nightstand; he was fully justified in groaning when he discovered that it was currently only 5:23 am. He turned back to face the Virus, who bounced the bed once as she looked at him in eager anticipation; he sighed.

"Technically, yes… That doesn't explain what you're doing on my bed a full 2 and a half hours before I have to be awake."

Melissa rolled her eyes and bounced her way off the bed.

"You User's sleep too much- you don't need it."

"I disagree."

Melissa simply crossed her arms.

"Well, I'm bored."

Ed sighed.

Congratulations… I'm irritated.

"Go read a book or watch Netflix or something."

She flopped down on the edge of the bed, staring straight at him.

"I did that in the night… Now I want to do something else."

It occurred to Ed that, for better or for worse, he was not getting any more sleep. So he simply shuffled his way into a seated position and rubbed his face with one hand.

"Did you get any sleep?"

Melissa shrugged.

"Maybe… But I'm not sure."

Ed sighed…

"Alright, seeming as how we're up, we might as well get some breakfast."

Melissa clapped her hands together and squealed as she lunged off the bed, racing down the hall and into the main room. Stretching as he got up, Ed chuckled and sauntered in the same direction. His semi- forgiving mood ended the moment he got to living room opening

What. The. Hell?!

In retrospect, it was impressive just how messy a single person in one night could make it… The kitchen and living room were combined into one large space, with simply, modern furniture, and a virtual library lining one wall… He didn't think he owned that much stuff to mess up.

In this, he was proven wrong. Now the books were stacked in various piles ranging in shape and size. The furniture had been all pulled together and formed a protective circle around the TV, and she'd dragged every piece of kitchen hardware he had out of the cupboards and put them on the counter.

That image, combined with the broken toaster on the floor, ended up giving the kitchen a look of an electronic utensils army preparing for war to avenge their fallen comrade.

In fact… The whole escapade seemed designed as some sort of gizmo concentration camp; perhaps funny when ones alarm is allowed to go off at 8. Not so much when an insane, viral program wakes you at an ungodly hour due to 'boredom'.

And because Melissa would see no reason to organize it herself, cleanup would fall to Ed- which resulted in the uttering of a rather unique string of curses. Melissa may not have understood everything he said, but Ed was pretty sure he would hear her trying them out at some point in the near future.

He sighed and waved a hand around the room.

"Care to explain why my apartment looks like the birth place for the electronic revolution?"

Melissa looked around the room and turned back to him, appearing rather nonchalant about the whole thing.

"I was establishing my superiority."

Ed went to say something then just shook his head.

Yeah… Not even going there…

"You know what? I don't even want to know…"

He turned to walk into the kitchen area when he spotted the toaster once more and pointed to it.

"Actually, scratch that… I DO want to know why my toaster is demolished."

Melissa walked over and looked to where he was pointing.

"Oh- so that's what he was called… I deleted him."

Ed sighed in frustration as he crossed his arms and looked at her. After a moment of just staring back, she threw her hands up.

"What?! I was trying to use the kitchen programs to make food. But none of them listened to me; and apparently I can no longer repurpose conscripts to my whims… So I decided to make an example out of one of them. The toaster seemed to be the most defiant, so he was the one I de-rezzed."

She kicked the spare parts across the floor and hooked a thumb back behind her.

"Anyway, it worked. A few micro's after I did, that one saw the wisdom of staying on my good side and began to perform his function."

Ed looked at the appliance and raised a hand to his face, lifting his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"It's called a coffee maker- and it performed its function because it's on a set timer- not as an act of submission… Besides, kitchen appliances don't work like that- only programs."

Ed thought for a moment, and then waved a hand at the fridge.

If you were so hungry, why didn't you just eat the food I'd left for you?"

Melissa huffed, clearly annoyed.

"I did… But that was a while ago and I got hungry again."

Ed hummed thoughtfully… Melissa had proven that she didn't really need much in the way of sleep; but thinking about it, he realized that what she did require was a lot of food. Apparently the Virus came standard with a hyperactive metabolism. Ed sighed and then nodded his head at the living room.

Right… Clean up, breakfast, and then work… And fridge stocking trip on the way home.

"Alright, I'll sort the kitchen out and then make breakfast- you get to put the furniture and books back where they belong."

Melissa took one look at the living room and then turned back to Ed.

"I like it the way it is… If you have a problem with it, then you should clean it up."

It was times like this that Ed really appreciated the wonderful and therapeutic effects of counting backwards from ten. When he got to zero he opened his eyes and stared down the virus.

"NOW, Melissa."

There are times she could be very perceptive of his moods… This was one of those times.

Ed figured that if they survived any long period of time together, it would be for that reason and that reason only. So while she quietly stomped back to the living room and began picking up books, he went to the kitchen and started cleaning up the sad remains of his toaster.

All said, it took over an hour to get the house back together and a simple breakfast made. Sitting at the island with Melissa, he quickly sorted through emails and news on his newest PDA- Encom's answer to the iPad.

Beside him Melissa watched quietly, happily munching on a grilled egg, cheese, and bacon sandwich.

That was another stark difference between her and other programs; all the others who had spent any time in the User world clearly preferred the vegetarian lifestyle. Something about eating meat- a living creature that was butchered- didn't sit well with them.

Melissa had no such problems… In fact, her exact words upon learning about meat from Quorra were,

"So? … Can't be that much different than the Encom programs I consumed before being yanked from the system."

Quorra didn't talk about it anymore after that- actually she just preferred to have nothing to do with the virus at all- and neither did any of the humans. It was a little disconcerting to know Melissa- when everything was said and done- ranked cannibalism as 'optional'.

Having finished her sandwich, and licked her fingers clean she turned and looked at Ed.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

Ed didn't bother looking up from what he was reading as he answered.

"Why don't you go have a shower?"

"Oh, that sounds like fun! Um… What's a shower?"

That did make Ed look up… After doing some quick math it occurred to him that she hadn't in fact showered since coming here. And he doubted it was a requirement in the digital world.

That meant that he was now going to have to teach Melissa how to bathe. The prospect wasn't as thrilling as people might think. He put his coffee mug down as he turned back to Melissa, already feeling the heat blooming across his cheeks.

Two years ago, my life was actually pretty boring… Never thought I'd miss those days.

"Well… You know how things can get dirty in the User world?"

Melissa nodded.

"That includes people. A shower is how we clean the dirt off."

She tilted her head to the side.

"But I haven't gone near the dirt."

Ed smiled.

"Doesn't matter. You sweat, you shed skin cells, and you pick up dirt from the air… No matter how careful you are, it's going to happen- you're going to get dirty."

It was interesting to note that dirt seemed to be the one thing in the User world that completely terrified Melissa. She didn't like it mentioned to her, she didn't like it around her, and she hated when it got on her. Which might explain how mere seconds after explaining that dirt gets everywhere, he found himself launched from his seat and bulldozed towards the bathroom. Standing rather stunned in the doorway, Melissa simply stood in front of him and pointed at the bathroom.

"Now what?"

Note to self: Remember to 'thank' Sam for failing to give me any pointers on Program to User lifestyle changes.

Ed swallowed, pretty sure that he was now blushing enough to be classified as a tomato. He pointed to the shower stall.

"Now… You turn the water on using the tap- it's like the one in the kitchen sink- and stand underneath the stream."

For a moment Melissa eyed up the stall suspiciously, but finally she shrugged and stepped into the shower, grabbing the tap and twisting. Ed realized the obvious just in time to yank her back from the water. For her part, the virus simply pulled away- irritated at being roughly handled. He pointed to the shower, almost positive that his blush now spread to his neck.

"You don't shower with your clothes on… They get put into the laundry basket and cleaned in the washing machine."

Melissa looked at the water streaming down and then back at Ed.

"You probably should have told me that first."

Ed laughed self-consciously.

Have a few other thoughts vying for my attention currently

"Yeah… Probably."

Without another word Melissa reached down and pulled her shirt off. Ed's jaw dropped as she tossed it to the floor and reached down and started on her pants. Coming to his senses, he turned a lovely shade of crimson and whipped around, making sure to keep his eyes squarely on the hallway.

The fact that the only things going through his mind at the moment was a visual of Melissa in only a bra and underwear and two thoughts; both equally unhelpful, didn't improve the situation.

Well… What do you know…? Apparently those grid tattoos really do go all the way down.

It was also increasingly apparent that- if her undergarments of choice were standard- 'Victoria' didn't have a whole lot of secrets left.

It occurred to Ed with that he was well on his way to discovering if a blush was capable of covering every inch of his body.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say 'yes'.

He was distracted once again when Melissa bunched up her clothes and lobed them into the hallway. He would deny it if asked, but right now Ed was pretty sure the damn bra sitting on top of the bundle was actually laughing at him.

"Okay… So now can I get into the shower?"

Ed cleared his throat and shifted so he was leaning up against the bathrooms door frame. He nodded.

"Yeah, just make sure to put your hand under the water first… You want to make sure it's at a comfortable temperature before you step under it."

"Like when I use the sink?"

Ed smiled.

"Like when you use the sink."

He listened to her fiddle with the taps, and then noted the change in water flow as she stepped in. He shifted uncomfortably when he heard her giggle softly.

"It feels funny… It… Tickles."

Ed cleared his throat and tried desperately to think of something other than the program turned human who was now standing wet and naked a mere 5 feet away from him.

"Okay, so do you see the white square thing on the lower shelf?"

"Uh, huh."

"That's the soap… Use the wash cloth and rub the soap into it. Then use the cloth to wipe your skin with; same way you use it to clean your face."

"Sounds easy enough."

Ed laughed.

"Yeah… We're not exactly trying to handle rocket science here… Once you're done with that, you can wash your hair."

"With the soap?"

Ed shook his head.

"No… The soap is just for your skin. Do you see the two bottles on the top self?"

"Yep."

"The one in the black bottle is shampoo; you start with that one. Just flip the cap and put a little bit into your hand, then rub it into your hair until it gets all foamy… Actually do that before you use the soap, because it's best to let the shampoo sit in your hair for a bit. Once you've got yourself clean with the soap, then stick your head under and get all the foam out of your hair. After that, take the white bottle and use a small amount of that on just the ends of your hair- don't put much on your scalp. Work it in the same as the shampoo, but you can rinse this one right away if you want."

With that he went quiet. Melissa seemed to wait for a moment, and then he heard her ask in a confused voice.

"That's it?"

Ed smiled.

Ah… The next step in her ongoing adventure of learning just how mundane the lives of User's really are; how quaint.

"That's it… It's not a massive undertaking- but it's a regular one. Most people shower every day."

"Huh… Who knew?"

Ed chuckled and then reached down to cautiously bundle her cloths up. He kept talking, finishing the last few instructions.

"After you're done, just turn the water off and use the towels on the back of the door to dry off. Make sure to really work the towel through your hair, it holds more water than any other part… I'm going to finish my coffee- holler if you need me."

He shook his head and laughed as he heard the sound of a cap being snapped, and a strangled attempt at singing being issued by Melissa. Just as he was about to head down the hall, he was brought up short.

"Ed… If my clothes are being washed, what will I wear when I get out?"

Amazing how fast a blush will return. Ed scratched his head and then looked down the hall at her bedroom.

"I'll take a look through what we've picked up for you. I'll leave it by the door; you can retrieve it when you get out."

"Okay."

Walking first to the hall closet, he deposited the clothes. Then he made his way to Melissa's room, which was 'interesting' to put it diplomatically.

Ground rules had been established their first night of sharing the apartment. His compromise had been that Melissa was allowed to decorate and maintain the room however she liked as long as it stayed sanitary, and wasn't subjected to anything permanent without asking him first.

The result was a room straight out of the twilight zone. A fascination with different textures meant that various gadgets lined every available space. An interest in animals meant that the bed looked like a petting zoo for stuffed animals; a general interest in User culture meant that various clippings completely covered one wall.

Especially revealing of character was the fact that she had a newspaper article about increases in gang violence tacked right next to what appeared to be an ad for 'My Little Ponies'. The few items they had bought for clothing the first day she'd arrive was a virtual rainbow of colour. Searching through one drawer he was surprised to find underwear so skimpy the 'how to wash' tag seemed to be the biggest piece of fabric on them, and an 8 inch long serrated knife.

A knife he couldn't recall ever owning.

Dear lord… I'm living with 'Fun Times Slasher Barbie.'

In the end he opted for just ignoring the fact that his 'guest' was stockpiling sharp weapons and continued his search for clothing. He found her a change of undergarments and pair of knee length shorts. Shirts were AWOL, which left him in an interesting dilemma. Ultimately he ended up raiding his own closet and finding a simple button up shirt that would- hopefully- work for her.

Heading back down the hall he deposited in the bathroom- staying ever the gentleman and keeping his eyes adverted- and went back into the kitchen. Hearing Melissa playing around in the shower, he chuckled as he went back to his coffee and PDA.

Bad things happen in threes… It turns out that insane things work the same way.

Ed should have known this, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to him. Getting woken up early and then having to repair his house covered two of the necessary spots… The third happened just as he was cleaning up the pan from breakfast.

Melissa had spent a good 45 minutes in the shower, and Ed was about to and suggest she get out when a blood curdling scream- issued from said shower- caused him to nearly jump through the ceiling. He was about to rush in and see what was wrong, when Melissa rushed into the main room instead.

A very wet, very naked Melissa.

Ed's only hope was that somewhere there was a god who would understand the situation and forgive him for simply staring. Apparently she had no clue what effect she was having, running forward and sticking her hand in his face.

"Something's wrong! My skin is… Malfunctioning!"

Ed looked at her hand; it was pruned rather well- but that was expected after spending 45 minutes in water. Then it occurred to him that there was no way Melissa would know that. He cleared his throat as he felt warmth flood his whole system.

Well… I was right… It is possible to blush over 100 percent of your body.

"Your skin isn't 'malfunctioning'… It's an effect of spending so much time in the water. Your body absorbs some of it and your skin does that… Once you get out of the water it goes away pretty fast."

She held her hand up and studied it while Ed attempted- and partially failed- to look anywhere but at her. Suddenly she gave a short little laugh and smiled at him.

"Oh, interesting… It's already disappearing… See."

Ed opted for staring at the floor, as he tried to wave her back into the bathroom. It wasn't working.

"Yeah. Next time, just ask me… You'll find your body reacts to different things in interesting ways… Now if you'll just head b—"

Melissa interrupted by clapping her hands and pointing at her breasts.

"Oh… Like what happens with these things… Sometimes there all soft and other times their really sore and it hurts when I brush up against something… And sometimes- they get cold and go really hard and pointy."

She looked down at her chest and raised one eyebrow.

"Like right now for instance."

She looked at Ed and tilted her head.

"Why is that?"

As god as his witness, Ed had no clue what to say or do… Oh, he had plenty of ideas- but he was pretty sure not a single one of them ranked anywhere close to 'appropriate'. Still, he felt credit had to be given to him when he simply squeaked out,

"Hormones."

One thing he could safely state was that he was officially red enough from head to toe to be reclassified as a lobster, and that he had to get out of the room ASAP. So he simply turned and walked to the bathroom, grabbed a towel and Melissa's clothes and threw the out into the main room. As he went to shut the door, he yelled out.

"Dry off and get dressed… It's my turn to shower."

He shut the door and began to undress. Suddenly he jumped as a gentle tap echoed through the door and he heard Melissa on the other side, clearly confused.

"But you perform this ritual at night… And you're already dressed for work."

Ed looked down at himself.

"Plans change."

There was a pause as Ed started up the shower, and then Melissa's voice came back through the door.

"I think I may have used up the hot water."

Ed snorted to himself as he looked at the tap- it was twisted all the way over to cold. He stepped into the shower and hissed as the cold spray hit his skin. Stepping all the way under he finally yelled over his shoulder.

"NOT going to be a problem, Melissa."

"So what are you going to do today?"

Ed shrugged as he closed the car door and made his way over to the Encom entrance located in the employees parking garage. He looked over at Melissa.

"Not much… Saturdays are reserved mostly for doing the programmers equivalent of dotting the i's and crossing the t's. I've got a few upgrades to install in the system, a few reports to finish, and then making sure that quarterly team projection actually finds its way to Sam's desk… But other than that, it's just spending time beta testing the new game titles that are scheduled to hit the shelves."

Melissa thought for a second.

"So… You come to work and get paid to play games?"

Ed chuckled.

"That's nothing… Yesterday my team and I got paid to have a snowball fight."

Melissa tilted her head, an obvious sign that she didn't understand what he was talking about. Ed just chuckled some more as he swiped his ID card and unlocked the door.

"Come on… I'll get started on those upgrades, and maybe even get you started on learning how programming works from this side of the screen."

Melissa perked up at that.

"Really?!"

Ed smiled.

"Sure, why not."

Melissa clapped her hands together and jumped up and down.

"Just think… A Virus with unlimited User powers… I'd be unstoppable!"

Ed groaned.

Great… An optimist with a psychotic streak… we're screwed.

Melissa was interesting. She had been brought through to the 'real' world on Thursday; and by Friday afternoon had learned where everything was located and general schedule of Encom. By evening time she had found three storage rooms no one knew existed, two of which held old equipment and programs that would ensure his team was busy for weeks.

Likewise, she was far more intuitive than most programs at picking up User lingo and idiosyncrasy, often simply needing to listen to a conversation to puzzle it out from the context it was put in.

Which made it rather funny and cute- in Ed's opinion- that she could still be so stumped over how the cafeteria worked.

"Okay, so the food dispensers store the food, and we just come by and pick what we want… So why do we have to pay that lady for the food?"

Ed sighed as he put the tray down in front of her.

"Because food is not free in this world… You take the food, but then the kitchen has to go out and buy more food to replace it. That costs them money… Just think of it as 'a mass markets consumer circle of life' thing.

For a moment she simple sat with her head tilted and then she looked over at the cashier before turning back to him.

"But you work here… Shouldn't the food simply be provided as a by-product of that?"

"It's not just employees that eat here… Besides, we get a discount if we use our employee card."

Melissa was clearly growing frustrated.

"But you WORK here! … User- even that program 'Clu' made sure that his employees were given energy to consume."

Ed took a bite of his sandwich, thinking. He swallowed and then held a hand up.

"True… But he also kept his 'staff' under an iron fist, and didn't pay them in any way for their services… I may have to buy lunch- but the income I make at Encom more than makes up for it."

"Ed… Why am I no longer able to kill people by touch?"

Another interesting thing about Melissa… It was always best to be prepared for wild fluctuations in conversation topic when talking with the Virus. The fact that Ed was no longer surprised when a topic would shift to something like 'how to maim or kill people' was proof of just how fast people can adapt to insanity.

In retrospect, that probably explained how Sam managed to retain his position of head CEO of Encom this long.

So when she asked him a question like this, he simply took a sip of his water and prepared to figure out how best to answer.

"When a human goes through, the laser stores that person's genetic pattern and uses it to rematerialize the individual when they come back from the grid. In the case of a program, like you, which didn't have a pattern stored- the laser simply pulls residual matter from the surroundings and forms a figure based on the layout of the pattern stored in the buffer… Because that pattern is human- you come out looking human, but the laser also reader you 'digital' self and uses that to form your ultimate appearance… So, the reason you can't kill people with a touch is that the genetic code the laser used to create you couldn't do that… Basically- if a human can't do it, then neither can you."

Ed took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.

"I think it tried though… You seem stronger than the average human, and like Quorra you're memory seems to be photographic- which is a rare trait for most humans. So it could be that the laser was trying to compensate for the differences in your format from other programs."

Melissa huffed.

"It's not fair… I tried to kill four people today and nothing happened."

Suddenly she looked off into the distance.

"Maybe I should try that 'Vulcan Neck Pinch" thing from Star Trek… That looks like it has potential."

"NO! ... Double no, absolutely not… You will not try to knock anyone out with any kind of neck pinch."

Melissa jumped up.

"But it's not fair!"

Ed laughed dryly.

"When did I ever suggest to you that User life was 'fair'?"

She stood up, crossing her arms.

"Well if you won't help me, then I'll just have to take it up with someone in higher authority."

Ed raised one eyebrow while Melissa just smiled mischievously at him.

"And who would that be?"

She tilted her head.

"I could find Alan."

Ed snorted.

"Yeah… That will go down well- I can see it now… 'Hey, Alan, Would you mind giving me my Virus powers back so I can go around killing the employees at will with a mere touch?' Let me know how it goes."

She looked off into the distance.

"Yeah… Not my best idea… Besides, he's way too much like Tron for my tastes. Anyone with a system monitors programming simply isn't going to be able to understand my high level of reasoning."

He snorted, but experience had taught him not to outright laugh at Melissa's attempts at 'snobbery'. Before mentioned strength meant she also had a really nasty left hook. Instead he opted for sarcasm, a trait she understood, but enjoyed.

"Some people just never learn."

Melissa looked levelly at him.

"No- they don't."

She sat and finished eating her sandwich in silence. When she was finished she threw her tray in the bin and got up, smiling at Ed; it made him nervous.

"So what are you going to do now?"

Ed placed his tray on top of hers and began to walk, Melissa by his side.

"Probably finish with those upgrades. After that I'm claiming dibs on a trail run of the new Tron game."

Melissa grinned and swayed as she walked beside him.

"Good, you do that, I'm going to talk to Sam about the modifications I want to make to the laser… Have fun."

Ed stopped in his tracks for a moment, and then ran after the Virus.

"Melissa NO… Knowing you, I'd probably end up getting fired if you go in there."

She shrugged.

"Fine… Then you could go find a job that paid you and provided your meals."

"Melissa! ... You can't go in there and ask Sam to let you go back to being an indestructible virus!"

"Sure I can… Watch me."

Ed looked at her for a moment. Slowly her serious expression dissolved and she smiled her Cheshire grin at him and winked. For a moment Ed thought about taking the high road and then simply shrugged; he thought back to all the times when Sam convinced him to do something equally bizarre. So he smiled back as he began walking towards Sam's office.

"First let me grab that report- I might as well make this trip serve double duty. Then I'm coming along to watch his expression."

She bounded up and down giggling.

"Oh… This is going to be fun!"

Ed's smile grew.

"No… This is Encom… Where our motto is 'Insanity: Just one more special feature we offer here'."

She linked his arm in his leaning into him as she walked. While he knew he was essentially snuggling with a Virus who started out as 1's and 0's he knew that it wouldn't make any difference… At Encom, eventually you found you came to except the bizarre as normal. The moment was broken when Melissa looked around wildly, a predator like grin on her face.

"I just remembered, I heard Cole talking about a cat named 'Rinzler' that lives here… Remind me to keep an eye open- I want to say 'hi'."

**Rinzler vs. Melissa… Oh- if that goes down, it's going to be GOOD…**


	7. Rinzler vs the Lawyer

**Author's Notes: Another inspired by my Tron Writing Playlist.**

**This one's 'Fat Boy Slim's'- "Weapon of Choice"…. Fun song. And somehow feels oh so right for Rinzler.**

It was established fact that both Ed and Alan were workaholics. In fact, until Sam actually started running the company, he had no idea that when they joked about sleeping at the office- it actually wasn't a joke.

Which made coming around a corner to see both of them sitting on chairs in the hall with matching gleeful grins- doing absolutely nothing- a shock.

Therefore, Sam felt he was within his right to walk up to them with the same level of suspicion usually reserved for enraged bears and women who were 'hormonal'.

"Um…. Am I missing something?"

Ed shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth- which was in ample supply via a large bucket due to Alan's tendency to have a concession stand worth of goodies in his office- and hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, you missed the meeting you scheduled for 8 this morning… But other than that, not really."

Sam cursed as he checked his phone, realizing that, yes indeed, he had forgotten about the damn meeting he'd set up with the game production staff. Ed simply waved his hand.

"I was already here… Broke into your office for the files and covered for you."

Sam clapped his back in thanks, and then raised an eyebrow.

"You broke into my office?"

Ed snorted as he tipped his head back to look at him.

"Oh, my dear Sam Flynn… I have _s-o_ many skills you know nothing about."

And that was a statement that just screamed 'ask me more'. But that was nixed when he suddenly become aware of Rinzler's telltale yowl of menace.

It was a sound he was intimately familiar with… What he wasn't used to was it being directed at someone other than himself. He turned to look at Alan and Ed.

"Okay… What's going on?"

Alan chuckled- and whatever was happening was going to be interesting if that gleefully evil noise was anything to go by. His honorary father simply pointed at the end of the hall, to the windowed lunchroom at the end.

That was when Sam became aware of a well-dressed middle age man, currently crouched on top of the fridge, defending himself with a broom handle against the snarling mass of psychotic feline on the floor. Sam blinked and then looked down at them.

"Please tell me this isn't how you two entertain yourselves regularly… Because that's just incredibly disturbing… Even by our standards."

Alan gave another sinister chuckle, which really didn't serve to comfort Sam… At all.

"Remember how Mackey informed us when you fired him that he would 'fight you' on it?"

"….Yes….?"

Alan smiled and looked up at him, pointing to the man once again.

"Meet his lawyer, John Kripke… He got about five minutes into his speech with me before Rinzler decided to take 'exception' to his view point… I think it's safe to say the cat likes him even _less_ than he likes you."

Sam looked up as the man's strangled cry echoed through the hall and tried to feel bad for the guy. Because he'd been on the receiving end of that whirling spawn of Satan, and with the exception of Chuck Norris or Mr. Rogers (because really, anyone who smiled that much had to be dangerous) he didn't think anyone could really prepare themselves for the terror Rinzler could unleash.

And, holy crap, damned if that cat wasn't actuallyclimbing the freaking _stainless steel fridge_- using his frickin' claws...

Ed nudged his side.

"Mackey is claiming you don't have the proper training, and had only taken control by abusing your shareholding privileges. Combine that with yourhistory of pranking Encom stock, means he's aiming to secure a vote of 'no confidence'… After he sues, of course."

Sam blinked before looking back up at the lawyer and eyeing the cat suspiciously.

"And _Rinzler_ chose to defend me?"

Alan smiled… Which managed to actually be more disturbing than his laugh.

"I think it was more of a 'no one makes Sam's life miserable but _me_' declaration of intent than anything overtly protective."

Sam sighed.

"Oh- I just feel so special knowing the rights to clawing my legs hold exclusive ownership."

Alan hummed.

"Could have been worse."

"How…"

"You could have been here first thing when he was_ looking_ for a fight."

Sam blinked.

"_How_ is this my life?!"

Beside Alan, Ed chuckled and shrugged.

"Talent?"

He held up the bucket as he patted the chair next to him.

"Popcorn?"

Sam glanced at the lawyer once again, who was now trying to make a break for it and failing miserably. He dropped down into the chair and took a large handful from Ed.

"Ah- what the hell… Seeming as how this is the one time it's not me on the receiving end I might as well enjoy it."

He turned to the rather well supplied Alan with an exaggerated pout.

"Alan, if you truly love me- you'll have thought to break out some of those Swedish Berries."

Alan snorted and rolled his eyes as he looked around his chair, eventually producing a small bag of the red delights. Sam fluttered his eyelashes and blew him a kiss- earning a hard cuff on the head as he opened the bag and began to munch. It wasn't long before a rather sick and twisted plan formed in the back of his mind.

"So, whaddya say we drop Rinz off at Mackey's place after he's eaten John? I don't know about you guys, but I think those two would get along _famously_."

Alan, always the practical one, simply hummed in thoughtful agreement.


End file.
